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Page 32
"Will monsieur be there?" said Jenny Cadine, looking artlessly and
graciously at Gazonal.
"Yes, madame," replied the countryman, dazzled by such rapid success.
"But Massol will be there," said Bixiou.
"Well, what of that?" returned Jenny. "Come, we must part, my
treasures; I must go to the theatre."
Gazonal gave his hand to the actress, and led her to the citadine
which was waiting for her; as he did so he pressed hers with such
ardor that Jenny Cadine exclaimed, shaking her fingers: "Take care! I
haven't any others."
When the three friends got back into their own vehicle, Gazonal
endeavoured to seize Bixiou round the waist, crying out: "She bites!
You're a fine rascal!"
"So women say," replied Bixiou.
At half-past eleven o'clock, after the play, another citadine took the
trio to the house of Mademoiselle Seraphine Sinet, better known under
the name of Carabine,--one of those pseudonyms which famous lorettes
take, or which are given to them; a name which, in this instance, may
have referred to the pigeons she had killed.
Carabine, now become almost a necessity for the banker du Tillet,
deputy of the Left, lived in a charming house in the rue Saint-
Georges. In Paris there are many houses the destination of which never
varies; and the one we now speak of had already seen seven careers of
courtesans. A broker had brought there, about the year 1827, Suzanne
du Val-Noble, afterwards Madame Gaillard. In that house the famous
Esther caused the Baron de Nucingen to commit the only follies of his
life. Florine, and subsequently, a person now called in jest "the late
Madame Schontz," had scintillated there in turn. Bored by his wife, du
Tillet bought this modern little house, and there installed the
celebrated Carabine, whose lively wit and cavalier manners and
shameless brilliancy were a counterpoise to the dulness of domestic
life, and the toils of finance and politics.
Whether du Tillet or Carabine were at home or not at home, supper was
served, and splendidly served, for ten persons every day. Artists, men
of letters, journalists, and the habitues of the house supped there
when they pleased. After supper they gambled. More than one member of
both Chambers came there to buy what Paris pays for by its weight in
gold,--namely, the amusement of intercourse with anomalous
untrammelled women, those meteors of the Parisian firmament who are so
difficult to class. There wit reigns; for all can be said, and all is
said. Carabine, a rival of the no less celebrated Malaga, had finally
inherited the salon of Florine, now Madame Raoul Nathan, and of Madame
Schontz, now wife of Chief-Justice du Ronceret.
As he entered, Gazonal made one remark only, but that remark was both
legitimate and legitimist: "It is finer than the Tuileries!" The
satins, velvets, brocades, the gold, the objects of art that swarmed
there, so filled the eyes of the wary provincial that at first he did
not see Madame Jenny Cadine, in a toilet intended to inspire respect,
who, concealed behind Carabine, watched his entrance observingly,
while conversing with others.
"My dear child," said Leon to Carabine, "this is my cousin, a
manufacturer, who descended upon me from the Pyrenees this morning. He
knows nothing of Paris, and he wants Massol to help him in a suit he
has before the Council of State. We have therefore taken the liberty
to bring him--his name is Gazonal--to supper, entreating you to leave
him his full senses."
"That's as monsieur pleases; wine is dear," said Carabine, looking
Gazonal over from head to foot, and thinking him in no way remarkable.
Gazonal, bewildered by the toilets, the lights, the gilding, the
chatter of the various groups whom he thought to be discussing him,
could only manage to stammer out the words: "Madame--madame--is--very
good."
"What do you manufacture?" said the mistress of the house, laughing.
"Say laces and offer her some guipure," whispered Bixiou in Gazonal's
ear.
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